


The Far Side of Paradise

by MoonNewt66



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen, Omicron Ceti III, spores
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29352381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonNewt66/pseuds/MoonNewt66
Summary: Sort of an A/U version of "This Side of Paradise," wherein Kirk joins his crew on Omicron Ceti III.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The Far Side of Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published February 1986, in issue #19 of the “K/S and Kindred Spirits” APA (Amateur Press Association), under the title of “The Other Side of Paradise.” This was my first published fan fiction story.

Sunrise

Early in the morning  
when dawn is come  
and light it  
fills the sky,  
I wake  
and gaze upon thy face,  
so near  
your breath  
it tickles my ear

The turbolift doors on the bridge of the Enterprise snap open, a reflection of the mood of Captain James T. Kirk is in, as he exits the lift. Kirk stops on the upper bridge tier, standing with feet braced apart, hands clasped behind his back. Slowly he turns his head, looking at the deserted bridge posts: science, communications, engineering, life support, environmental engineering, navigation and helm. Only the instruments, left on automatic, are working; their monitor lights, gauges, and sensors oscillate, pulse and fluctuate to an unappreciative audience. 

Kirk slowly walks to his command chair, his right hand grasping the bridge rail and his left hand the back of his chair for support. Reaching out, he depressed the communication switch on his chair. 

“Engineering! Scotty?” Kirk asks hopefully. 

There is no response. Kirk depresses another switch. 

“Biochemistry lab.”

Still no response. Angrily, Kirk depresses another switch. 

“Security!”

Again, silence. Kirk stares at the chair for a moment, then depresses another switch, opening the intraship communication system. 

“Is there anyone on board? This is the Captain!”

Kirk waits for a few moments, but there is no response, just heavy silence. He steps up onto the chair pedestal and very slowly sits down. Looking up, he can see on the main view screen Omicron Ceti III, the beautiful green and gold planet rotating below the Enterprise. 

Kirks sits up straighter, squaring his shoulders, inhaling deeply. Then he depresses another switch on the arm of his chair as he crosses high right leg over his left. 

“Captain's Log, stardate 3417.7. Except for myself, all crew personnel have transported to the surface of the planet. Mutinied!” Kirk spat the word out. “Lieutenant Uhura,” he looks over his shoulder at the communication post, “has effectively sabotaged the communications station. I can only contact...the surface of the planet. The ship...can be maintained in orbit for several months, but even with automatic controls, I cannot pilot her alone. In effect, I am marooned here.”

Kirk leaves his chair, stepping over to the helm position. Sitting, he leans his left arm against the console. 

“I'm beginning to realize...just how big this ship really is, how quiet. I don't know how to get my crew back, how to counteract the effect of the spores. I don't know...what I can offer against...Paradise.”

Kirk stops, unable to continue. He stares off to his right, towards the science console. What had the spores offered Spock? Love, happiness, a sense of finally belonging? And isn't that what you've wanted, been hoping for Spock to find? But, not this way, not in this fashion. This ship is so quiet, I've never felt so alone. Or so tired. 

Lost in thought, Kirk moves his left hand over his mouth and chin. On the other side of the helm console, out of his line of sight, one of the pod plants moves slowly from the deck. Clearing the top of the helm console, the pod plant discharges a cloud of spores directly into Kirk's face. 

Kirk sits utterly still, seemingly unaffected by the spores. Suddenly, the visible tension in his body and face fade, and eyes open wide with a sense of...wonder. Breathing in deeply, Kirk begins to smile, as he opens a communication channel from the helm console. 

“Enterprise to Mr. Spock.”

On the planet surface, Spock is sitting on a grassy knoll, leaning back against Leila, her left arm draped over his shoulder. At the tone of the communicator, Spock pulls it out his jumpsuit side pocket, flipping the grid open. 

“Yes, Jim, what is it now?”

“I've joined you. I understand now,” replies Kirk, his face totally calm. 

Spock glances up at Leila, and in response to her warm smile at the welcome news, grins back.

“Wonderful, Jim! When will you beam down?”

“There some things in my quarters I want to pack. Also, there's equipment aboard we should have down at the settlement.”

“Do you want a party beamed up?”

“No...I think think I can handle it alone. Don't wait for me, I'll be down as soon as I can,” advises Kirk. 

“All right, Jim. Spock out.”

Kirk carefully folds one his gold uniform tunics, placing it next to one his green wrap-around tunics, on top of some uniform trousers inside the compact flight bag. Picking it up off of his bunk, he walks into the office section of his quarters, placing the flight bag down beside his security safe. 

Quickly he punches in the combination to the security safe. Reaching in, Kirk pulls out the command packet, then puts it aside to pick up a square black case. Opening the case, his face lights up with a smile, as he gazes at the medal of honor within it. Still looking at the medal, Kirk sits down at his desk, reaching over to the computer terminal, intending to add another entry to his log. 

Abruptly he changes his mind, slams the lid closed on the medal case, and turns off the computer terminal. Picking up his flight bag, he leaves his quarters. 

Stopping off at various section of the Enterprise, Kirk soon acquires a large collection of equipment. Using anti-gravs from engineering, Kirk begins to move the equipment towards the transporter room, discovering suddenly that he doesn't have the energy to accomplish the task. Especially to compute the mass ratios for each piece of equipment, and beam down coordinates. Also, there is a wee voice whispering softly, “I can't leave you,” inside his head. 

Glancing at the entrance to the shuttlecraft bay, Kirk smiles at an idea flashing through his unusually foggy mind. Here was a way to move the equipment with the least amount of expended mental and physical energy, and a way to quiet the voice. Whistling, Kirk rounds up the equipment and his personal belongings. 

They had built their cabin on the west shore of a small lake, not too far from the main colony settlement. The west wall of the cabin was built snug into a hill, to provide insulation, protection against the summer heat. The east wall, facing the lake, was made entirely of glass planes, handmade by some of the colonists as a house warming present. 

At night, they would go to bed leaving the doors and windows open, so that they could hear the soft sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore, lulling them into sleep, echoing in their dreams. In the morning, the lake reflected the golden light of sunrise, like an infinite number of prisms, as it danced off of the water. The brilliance would lightly tickle their eyelids, until finally they opened, and waking, Spock would smile down at Leila, enfolded within his arms, gently kissing her good morning. 

Then they would begin their daily routine, which hardly ever varied. Shower, breakfast, work in the fields, lunch, a short nap, meet with some of the other colonists (never the same ones twice in a row) to discuss the same topics: crops and the weather, another short nap, dinner, some quiet time with Leila, and they would return to bed and … sleep. 

The first night, Spock was sure something was missing in his relationship with Leila, something promised, something secretly desired before … in his other life. But soon the contentment and peace of mind that the spores created filled him completely, and the sense of loss faded swiftly. 

The one variation in their routine came at month's end, when all the colonists gathered for a meal of thanksgiving. The first time (for the Enterprise crew) almost seven weeks ago, Spock had felt a brief surge of guilt when he saw James Kirk, who lived in a neighboring colony. The spores, however, quickly neutralized the emotion, enhancing the feelings of friendship Spock had for Kirk. 

Spock, Kirk, McCoy and their respective mates, Leila, Uhura, and Tonia, shared a table, and were able to keep a conversation going. McCoy's Georgian drawl seemed at first unfamiliar, but as McCoy continued to talk about the project Sandoval had assigned him (compost collection), the spores augmented Spock's recognition of McCoy's voice. Kirk talked of the necessity of plowing additional acres for the extra crops that needed to be planted, to feed the increase of four hundred and thirty mouths. That concern had also struck of chord of response in Spock's memory, which the spores also soothed. 

The spores controlled Spock effortlessly, completely, with no sense of iniquity. As they controlled the one hundred fifty colonists and the four hundred thirty Enterprise crew; no wants or needs were allowed to surface, no vivid memories of their lives … before, lived long enough for recognition. The humans were allowed to lead a tranquil existence. 

Ceres, the largest of Omicron Ceti III's four moons, was the last to set, and hung low in the horizon. The bright light of its second quarter phase illuminated the early morning darkness. A slight breeze over the lake rippled the surface, breaking the mirror like reflection of Ceres into a dazzling display of shimmering white. Spock, sitting on the cabin's patio, gasped softly as another wave of heat coursed through his body. 

This was the fourth night that Spock had unable to sleep, and as he done the past three nights, had left their bed after he was sure that Leila was sound asleep, not wishing to disturb her with his distress. Spock closed his eyes, searching inward for the harmony he felt ebbing. 

Spock was confused. The completeness, the feeling of being whole, that he had had these past weeks, was being ripped from him. Along with his insomnia, he was experiencing an unusual lack of hunger. He had been eating less and less, and last night was only able to partake of the carrot soup. 

Opening his eyes, he looked up into the night sky, watching Ceres slip below the horizon. The stars grew brighter, and Spock, turning, found himself looking for a familiar star. There, 20 degrees to the east of Rigel, burned the star Eridani 40, sun to his homeworld, Vulcan. The spores, agitated, worked to quell his memories. But before they could fully succeed, to add to his misery, the bright star that was the Enterprise, in her decaying orbit, traveled across the horizon. 

But in a few minutes, the spores had reclaimed their ownership of Spock. Sighing, he stood and stretched, and returned to Leila for a hours of welcome sleep. 

Awakening later that morning, Spock found himself alone in their bed, Leila already up, preparing breakfast in the cabin's compact kitchen. Sitting up, he swayed slightly, as his body reacted to the aroma issuing from the kitchen, creating a flashing surge of nausea. Bending low at the waist, he held his head down, breathing deeply in through his mouth, until he felt the sensation fade. 

Approaching Leila in the kitchen, he smiled in response to her cheery, “Good Morning!” Spock stood behind Leila, wrapping his arms around her waist, as she leaned back into him, resting her head onto his right shoulder. Bending his head, he nuzzled her neck below the right ear, momentarily surprised when he encountered the slow, throbbing pulse of her carotid artery. 

_“Why did I expect to feel the life beat of another Vulcan?”_ Swallowing heavily, Spock released Leila from his embrace, turned, and sat down at the table. 

Joining Spock at the table, Leila served breakfast: various assorted fruits, a rice porridge, and warm bread. The smell of the food returned the nausea, and breathing rapidly, Spock abruptly stood, tightening his hands into fists. 

“Spock, is there something wrong?” asked Leila, her gentle voice trembling with her concern.

Spock shook his head, desperately trying to quell his nausea, and his growing sense of uneasiness. He turned, intending to leave the cabin and escape the cloying smell of the breakfast. 

Leila hurriedly stood, and reaching out, grasped his bare forearm. Feeling the unexpected increase of his body temperature, she cried out, “Spock, there is something wrong! What it is?”

Angrily, Spock pushed her hand off of his arm. “Poking... prying … if I need anything from you I'll as for it!” he yelled. 

Seeing the shocked look on Leila's face, Spock stopped. Raising his hand to caress her shiny, black hair to apologize, his hand faltered when he touched Leila's blonde locks. “Leila, I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. Please forgive me,” he pleaded softly. 

Tear had started to fill Leila's blue eyes. _“Blue, but I thought she has brown eyes! And … her ears are … wrong.”_

“Of course you are forgiven. I'm just concerned about you, I can feel … something is wrong, Spock,' said Leila, placing her hand back on his forearm. “You feel like you have a fever.”

Spock laid his left hand over hers on his harm, then raised it to brush away her tears. Leaning in, he lightly kissed her eyes, and brushed against her quivering lips. “It will pass,” he said, wishing it could be trued. “I love you.” _“Why do I see someone else when I look at her? Fever? I seem to remember … No! Fight this, let the spores fight this! I cannot return to what … I was. Love, I love Leila, and she..._

“Do you love me, Leila?” asked Spock soberly. 

Leila smiled, her eyes still glistening. “Yes”

Spock let his left hand rest on her face for a moment. “Yes,” he repeated softly. “Leila, I must leave now. I need … I need to work in the garden.

“But your breakfast...” Leila started to protest. 

“I'm really not hungry,” Spock interjected. _“Food will not assuage the hunger that burns me from within.”_ Smiling, he kissed her lightly on the mouth, feeling the heat that coursed within beginning to build. Spock inhaled sharply to calm his body. “I'll be back for lunch early,” he said to Leila, as he walked out the door. 

Kneeling, Spock was working hard in the garden, using a hand hoe to dig out stubborn weeds. After he had left the cabin, he had felt the control of the spores decrease rapidly after the scene with Leila. Uncertain of a future course of action, he had sought out something familiar, to ease the disquiet in his body, and in his mind. 

Suddenly feeling flushed, Spock noticed he was having trouble breathing. Standing up, he felt imbalanced; swaying towards his right, he stumbled, falling to the ground. Raising his head, his eyesight faded, then returned sharply, and he could see just beyond the garden fence … _the familiar red sands of Vulcan, stretching endlessly from the garden gate of his ancestral home in Shikahr to the L-Langon mountains, where his family's land for Koon-ut Kalifee was located. T'Pring approached him wearing the ceremonial garb, right hand held up in the traditional greeting, her black hair gleaming under the hot sun. Standing before him, her brown eyes widened as he reached out to touch her face …_

As his hand touched only the empty air, Spock cried out in protest, shaking his head, trying to fight the hallucination. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, right arm clutched to his abdomen, deeply aware of the spore's anxiety. Opening his eyes, he felt some measure of relief in seeing the woodland that lay just beyond the garden gate, but instantly knew the spores influence over him had been destroyed. 

_“Pon farr! I had hoped I would be spared this, but the ancient drive is too strong. The spores could control my human passion, but not the Vulcan inferno of pon farr.”_

After resting for a few minutes on the ground, Spock finally stood up. He looked in the direction of his cabin, started to step forward, and stopped. Placing his right hand to his head, he struggled to bring control and unification to his widely divergent thoughts. 

“I am a Starfleet Officer!” Spock stated forcefully. 

But the echoes of Leila's love, of his love for her, were still heard within him. “Leila,” he whispered quietly. 

Then, the scene on the porch earlier that morning flashed through mind, the remembered longing for Vulcan, and the sharper desire for the Enterprise as he had watched her streak through the early morning darkness. 

“I am the First Office of the Enterprise!,” he said, hearing the last echo of the what he had been these past nine weeks die. 

Several hours later, Spock sat under a large tree, many miles from the settlement, studying the three communicators and the tricorder he had found in Sandoval's home before leaving. He would rest for a few minutes, to ease the throbbing in his head, and then continued walking, to try and put as much distance as he could between him and the settlement before he was missed. 

_“My options, due to the circumstances, are severely limited. Without the protection of the spores, I can only survive the effect of the Berthold rays for a week at the most. I cannot, will not, resubmit myself to the spores! I question how long my sanity would be sound, for as soon as the spores take control, the pon farr would battle to win again. But how long can I continue to function under the pressures of pon farr? I cannot expect help from any of the Enterprise crew, nor can I jeopardize their lives by removing the influence of the spores until I can find a way to return to the ship. Assuming I can discover a method to remove the spores influence, especially for over five hundred colonists and crew. I must resign myself to acknowledge that there is little I can do to help those already infected, but what of future visitors to this world? Surely, we have been reported as missing by now at Starbase 27. Clearly then, my last duty is to warn those who would come here investigating our disappearance. Perhaps the Captain left behind a warning in the ship's log before he beamed down, but I cannot rely on this assumption. Jim! In time, I hope you will be able to forgive me my part in this. It is difficult to keep my thoughts in order, my head pounds so … yet I cannot seem to recall any of my former disciplines. I must warn those who come next to this planet! Communicators … Yes, with two of them, I can construct an emergency beacon. That must be my first priority. After I have succeeded, I can then direct what time I have left in solving the problem of regaining access to the Enterprise. Depending on the damage Uhura did to the communications station, perhaps I can forge a link with communications between the computer and the transporter circuits, utilizng the remaining communication and tricorder. However, as this has never been accomplished before, the odds of my success … I have been associated with humans too long, even my thoughts are tainted with their human knack for irrelevancy. Now, I must focus all my attention to the construction of the emergency beacon.”_

“Blast!” exclaimed Kirk, as he tripped over another unseen obstacle in the pre-dawn darkness. Ceres has set a few minutes ago, and his eyesight hadn't adjusted yet to the decrease in available light. Plus, he was trying to concentrate on the signal he had picked up once he had cleared the low range of hills to the south of the main settlement. An emergency signal, that could only be coming from Spock. 

He and Uhura had been doing their supper dishes, he washing, Uhura drying, when a hysterical, frightened Leila had appeared at their door. She had run the fifteen miles from the main settlement to the satellite settlement that he and Uhura had been assigned to by Sandoval. It had taken several minutes to quiet her enough so that her story was coherent. 

Spock, she had said, was missing, and she feared for his safety. He had appeared to have been ill at breakfast, and had left the cabin suddenly to work in the garden. When he didn't return to join her for lunch, as he had promised, Leila went to check the garden. There was sign he had been there, but the row he had been weeding was unfinished, most unlike Spock. And, there was something else that she really couldn't explain, but she knew that there was something wrong. 

Kirk pressed her on that. Why couldn't she explain it? And why had she come to him for help, seeking just him out? Leila admitted, that she knew Spock was free of the spores influence. She had come to Kirk for help, knowing how much affection Kirk had for Spock, hoping that Kirk would be able to convince Spock to submit to the spores influence again. Suddenly, Kirk knew, just as Leila had earlier with Spock, that Leila also was free of the spores. 

But though the spores still controlled him, Kirk's concern for Spock, who had never been ill since he had known him, and knowing the state of perfect health the spores provided, was paramount to him. The spores sensing this, didn't fight his concerns, accenting the desire in Kirk for Spock to belong to the colony again. Leaving Leila in Uhura's care, Kirk left with his communicator in search of Spock. 

The emergency signal was practically at full strength now, Spock was somewhere nearby. Physically tired from running; climbing the range of hills; and lack of sleep, Kirk stopped to rest against a large boulder. He was sweaty, hungry, thirsty; and his hands and knees hurt after falling several times in the dark. 

Looking up to glance around the terrain, Kirk's attention was attracted by a moving light just above the horizon. Tracking the light, he felt a burning sensation in his eyes, as he knew that the light was the Enterprise. 

_“I can't leave you!” whispered a tiny voice from his memory._

“I can't leave you! Kirk shouted, slamming his clenched right fist against the boulder. “I can't leave you!” He held his breath, instantly feeling the desire for his ship killing the influence of the spores. Sagging, he leaned against the boulder. 

“Beautiful, isn't she?”

Spock's voice coming from behind startled Kirk. Turning, he saw Spock standing beside a small cave, in the shadow of the boulder. 

“Spock! I'm glad...”

“Don't come any closer, Jim. I'm not going back with you to the settlement, and I don't want to hurt you,” warned Spock. 

“The settlement! The only place we're going to is back to the ship, and then we get our crew off of this planet!” roared Kirk. 

Spock stepped closer to Kirk. “The spores … you are free of the spores?”

“Yes. And so is Leila. Apparently strong needs and wants destroy the spore influence.” Kirk stopped, looking at Spock more closely in the dim light. “Are you all right? Leila said that you were ill...”

“No, Captain, I'm not ill... The spores have unsettled me. I need rest,” replied Spock. 

“Well, good. You and I will have to come up with a way to free the crew from the spores...”

“Jim,” interrupted Spock, “we can't go back to the ship.” His tone was soft, gentle, as though explaining something complex to a child. “There is no one aboard to activate the transporter, and though I have been working on creating a link between the computer and transporter circuits...” Spock's voice trailed off as the sound of Kirk's laughed reached him. 

“Captain? Are you all right?”

“Fine, Mr. Spock, just fine. I have a surprise for you. You should have used that tricorder you're holding to scan the area for antimatter.”

“Antimatter? A shuttlecraft? But who...”

“I did. When I left the ship, I took the Columbus. Somehow, I didn't feel like I was deserting her … just going away for a while, which is probably why the spores let me.”

Both men were silent for a moment, reflecting on what they had lived through the last several weeks. Kirk sighed, then grinned broadly at Spock. 

“I have an idea. Can you put together a subsonic transmitter … something we could hook into the communications station and broadcast over the communicators?

Spock stared at his right hand, which was shaking slightly. Slinging the tricorder strap over his shoulder, he answered, “It can be done Captain.”

Kirk started to walk away, expecting Spock to follow him, but Spock remained standing. Kirk looked back questioningly at Spock, a slight grin beginning to show on Kirk's face. 

“Well, Mr. Spock?”

“Desertion is a court martial offense,” Spock replied, his now trembling right had held clasped by his left hand, behind his back. 

Kirk grinned a little wider, rubbing his palms together. “Well, if we're both in the brig, who's going to build the subsonic transmitter?

Holding his head a little higher, Spock reflected on this, then answered. “That is quite logical, Captain.”

“Well, let's get going. If we hurry, we can reach the Columbus before sunrise.”

Glancing around him, Spock nods his assent. The cave was to have been his tomb, and he is relieved to walk away from it. Joining Kirk, a stray thought startles him. But then he decides the thought is due to the contamination of human influence. 

_“I wonder what Bones is going to say when he realizes he has been in charge of the refuse detail?”_


End file.
